


The Overnight Watch

by vocalfew



Category: youtuber
Genre: /zoom, KickThePj - Freeform, antisepticeye, jackthehalls, over night watch, overnight watch, overnightwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocalfew/pseuds/vocalfew
Summary: /zo͔̰̝̹͇̘̗̕o̜͚̣͞m kitchen





	The Overnight Watch

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like me to write more, please let me know! This fic was based off of the second anomaly that happened in the kitchen with PJ during the #overnightwatch.

PJ hadn't quite been himself lately. He hadn't been the type to really say anything out loud to anyone either, especially if he was feeling slightly ill.  
He had always been uncomfortable with the idea of burdening anyone else with his own personal issues, as silly as it sounds.

Usually it was a migraine, some pain behind his eyes from forgetting to wear his glasses or contact lenses, and sometimes it was just general carsickness from reading in the passenger seat.

This, however, was a different type of illness. It wasn't the usual nausea in his stomach, but rather somewhere in his brain. It was like there was a small, gnawing sensation. The gnawing kept him from sleeping, concentrating, and even eating. Sometimes it died down to a dull hum, or a ringing in his ears that caused the slight feeling of unease. Often times it was eerie silence that made him feel this way. The longer he was alone, the worse it became.

It proved to be easier to drown out with some sort of noisy distraction, but the feeling only grew stronger. If he played ukulele, the sound was from the strings. If he blasted music or hummed to himself, his throat would tighten and he would no longer have the desire to do such. The only thing left was to surround himself with people. Friends. That should be easy.

The moment he surrounded himself with people he loved, he became irratable and suddenly wished to be alone, the very thought of interacting caused him dread. He had shrugged off all of his friends he previously invited to hang out. Even the people he lived with grew into a chore to speak with.

The behaviour became so abrupt in his life, and everyone else noticed it but PJ. The sudden lashing out, the empty replies and looks he gave to others, the lack of desire to be in the same room as even one person. He could hardly even make tea if Sophie was in the kitchen at the same time.

The last straw was when he had agreed to do the 24 hour livestream with his friends. He had tried to keep it under control, and behind live cameras, he did a great job of blocking out the almost deafening ache in his head that caused him so much grief.

At the end of the stream, everyone had packed up, except for PJ. He had decided that the studio would be empty, and he would be completely and utterly isolated. No Sophie, no Jamie, no Sean, Emma, Robin, Signe, or Ethan. It was perfect. He would spend the night in the office. After pleading for him to join them for a movie night, with a clenched jaw he tried his best to politely decline and insisted that he watch over the office whilst they were gone. It was a good excuse, especially since there were strange happenings being reported to the staff.

As PJ was finally alone, time seemed to tick by effortlessly. The itch at the back of his brain had been scratched. There was no more noise, no more friends. He was in complete and utter solitude, except for some cameras here and there.

He had thought about his behaviour, convincing himself that maybe he just needed to recharge by being alone. Being cooped up in an apartment could drive someone crazy, and perhaps this was the answer. Maybe all that PJ needed was some overnight isolation. Everyone else was crazy, he wasn't being silly, this was definitely the answer. He had always been this way. Nothing has changed, and maybe they were just too daft to notice it. Maybe they just wanted to make him feel mad. Maybe they were just toying with him.

Maybe they weren't his real friends.

Friends don't act that way. They don't make you feel like you've gone round the bend for acting in such a way that you've always acted. Maybe those people weren't his friends. Maybe he was the only sane one here.

Quietly, PJ shuffled about the quiet studio in the socks he'd worn that day. He felt warm and comforted, which caused him to grow tired. The sofa in the room they recorded in was quite comfortable, and there were no cameras in there to make him feel paranoid, so he decided that he would sleep in there.

After getting comfortable, PJ had removed his glasses and shut his eyes, curling up and breathing in the smell of the soft fabric he lay upon. He sort of felt like royalty, this studio would make a brilliant castle if he were a king. That was it, he was a king tonight, this was his manour, and there were no pesky peasants to bother the wonderful silence he began to doze off in.

Maybe being alone was for the best, maybe being alone forever would be even better.

PJ awoke in the night as a sound had passed his head. His eyes shot open at the subtle noise, causing his body to become one tense muscle. His heart slammed in his chest as he glanced around the room.

Laughter. He could had sworn that he heard laughter. It was devious and conniving, and it was mocking him.  
The sound was high pitched and almost familiar, it was a voice he heard before, but in his half asleep state, he couldn't quite pin a face to a voice.

Something else had made him jump. It was muffled, like it had come from outside of the room. A moment later, it happened again. It was a door slam. The door had slammed twice.

Was someone in here with him? Sure, if they were, they wouldn't want to make themselves known.  
That was, of course, unless they were mocking him. Daring him to get up and go look.

They had known PJ wanted to be alone, and they were teasing him. All he wanted was some bloody peace and quiet for a few hours, was that so much to ask?

Taking a deep breath, he checked the time on his phone and shoved it in his pocket, deciding to check out the sound. Whoever was in here, they wouldn't be for much longer.

A violent thought had briefly flashed through PJ's mind as he pondered this, making his way towards the source of the slam. He had arrived in the edit hallway, pushing the horrific reasoning from his head. He was just tired, but he'd find the source of the noise soon.

A small light had caught his eye down the hallway. As he squinted, he made out a camera through the sleep in his eyes. If that had been recording, then maybe it had picked up the footage if anything did happen to come through here.

He'd check it out tomorrow.

A low growl emitted from the pit of his stomach, pulling him from his investigative state. With a brief glance down, he held one palm to his stomach and headed for the kitchen.  
There was never really anything here except for a few snacks at a time. As he opened up the freezer, there it lay. A knight in shining armour. Eggo waffles.

With a small grin he popped a few in the toaster and retrieved a plate. There was a small static feeling in the air, it made his body heavy and cold. It was like someone was pouring freezing water over his head, except it was internal. His veins froze to ice and he stood there as he watched the silver appliance blankly. The static turned to a buzz-- he knew it didn't come from the toaster because he had felt it behind him too. It wasn't a sound, it was more of a sensation. It was like the oxygen had been replaced with electricity, and the ice from his veins turned to small, dancing volts through his being.

The sound of the toaster popping jolted him back into reality, PJ composed himself as he stacked the waffles onto his plate. Carefully, he made his way over to the island and set down his plate, making sure all of the stacked waffles were nice and even. As soon as he was pleased with it, he decided to pour himself a glass of milk as well.

As he turnned on his heel towards the fridge, a lonely kn͢ͅi͍͙͉̻fe sat on the counter in front of him. He laughed it off for a moment, deeming it a parallel to how he felt.

Alone in the kitchen, almost taunting everyone who walked by it. It dared the onlooker to put it to use, to play with it. PJ watched it carefully.

It was sharp, and pointed. Anyone who dared to touch the blade directly could get seriously injured.

Seriously injured.

Seri̴͚͓ou̪̜̘s̙͜ly Inju̹͓̟̻̟̦r̨

Anger rose up inside of him.  
They all probably thought he was crazy. They thought he was spiraling out of control,  
maybe if they  
considered ho w they we,̛̟̭̫̺̪͎ͅ--͚ ̰̯͕̲̤̭;̰͖ acTi m͊̄̄̏̂̀̔͢͏̙̲͍̺m̸̧͍̻͛̈́̍ͯͯ̉̓m̶̟͖̮̬͖̟͓̓́̃̏ͮ͛̃͢ḿ̢̧̙̥̥ͭ͟m̨̦̫̤͍͚̳̺̻̒̃͐̇͌̕͠m̲̞̖̘̗͖̼ͣ̓̎ͩ̏̓͋̉̓̕m̙͎̹̜͊̈́̉͐̿̓̈́͒ͬ͘͠m̸̥̎͗́̈́̋̌̕͜ḿ̘̝͇̦͈̲̤̈́̔͊ͯ̄͒͆͞͞m͔̪͗̔̅͘m͙̮̳̏̓̽̂́̽͢͝m̙͇̮̻͐̌̔̏ͮ͒̚͘m̷̦̺̟̲̗͈̭͒̂̀͐͊̾ͧ̕͜m̡̲̰̳̯̹̺̲̦̽͒̍͋̓͐͑̚h̃ͮͨ̊̓ͯ̅̂̄͏̨̥̬̺̠̦M̫̖̥̮̲̗̜͙ͪ̆ͫͬ͋̊̅́͡HemmmĽ̡͕͕̯̱͔̠̗ͯ̇̾͝L̶̹̥͓̻͓̼̬̱̥̐ͤ́ͥͣ̉lM̢̡̻̗̣͈͇̋̈́͜ͅM͖̥̙̈̊̒͘͟M̩̥͈̣͈̤̜̾͊̀̽ͬ̇͟M̸̳̱̩̰̟̞̮̿́̅ͫ̒ͬ͝p̠͓͇ͣͥ͜͠  
  
  


He was a balloon on the verge of bursting. His vision filled with static, his ears rang loudly, enough to shatter glass.  
PJ winced at the deafening noise, his body now on autopilot. He could hardly see, his thoughts were jumbled, tangled and twisted into knots.  
His breathing was heavy as he turned, held his breath, and brought the knife down, over and over and  
over a̪͇͍͔̓̋̒ͦͣ ̗͎̝̺ͬ̈́́ͬ͌̚n̖̗̯̊̓̿̐͝d

over

ove  
_̞̆̅ͦͦ̄_̠̗͈͉̣̔ͩ̅̿̆̇͂͘͞_͔̝͙̗̝̗̃͑͠_̧̥̺̮̭̞̜͓̮̓̈́ͣ̒ͬ̐R

ā͓̭̟̗̩̻̄̀nd over.

The sound that brought him back was the utensil dropping to the floor near his colourful feet.  
The static in the air subsided, he could finally breathe.

Ignoring what had just happened, the man piled the waffles back onto his plate and gently jabbed a chunk with the prongs of the fork, bringing it to his mouth.

Again, the familiar sight of a small, white light attracted his eyes.  
Another camera.

Calmly, PJ collected the plate and fork, and threw both in the bin, along with the rest of his uneaten waffles.

Ther͇͖͔ͅe.

Much better.


End file.
